


Dapper Doggy Dads

by Inebri



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Just A Rather Very Intelligent Siberian Husky, M/M, No Starfleet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inebri/pseuds/Inebri
Summary: “Jim, what is this?”“Have you opened it?”“For all I know you might have sent me a crocodile. Or a king cobra. So no, I’m not opening it.”“Sadly, I can’t fit a crocodile in a box like that. A king cobra though… now there’s a possibility.”“Jim. I will burn your mixtapes.”“Well, shit. It’s a puppy, alright?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M493](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M493/gifts).



> written October 14, 2014.

 

 

Leonard Horatio McCoy, though usually termed an old man by many people’s standards at age 37, still finds the phrase “Life is _fucking unfair_!” pleasingly cathartic.

Especially when he yells it, emphasis and all, into the dark of his brand new physician’s office, simultaneously throwing his phone onto his brand new examination couch.

Some days he gets this irrational fear in his head that Joanna might actually forget about him completely, with how little he gets to see her every year. 

This year, again, Jocelyn denied him a chance to celebrate his daughter’s birthday with her. She claims, like she does every year, that Jojo needs to spend more time with Clay instead of her biological father to strengthen their daughter-stepfather bond.

Leonard had replied with an acidic, “He already ‘spent time’ with her without me around for the past three years; don’t you think she should be used to him by now?!” that earned him a click and the dialing tone. Really, he’s never been the master of tact and other social niceties himself, but that was just _rude_.

So, he’s totally unshackled again for the weekend. Not that it’s any different than the last nine weekends since Jim flew off to some exotic corner of the world and left Leonard in charge of their high-end, top-floor apartment. He’d coped with all the empty space – there was a lot - the first few weeks by singing to some age-old rock while he puttered around and did the usual chores, but eventually the echoes got too creepy and he stopped.

Now he just burns away the daylight in a park nearby, watching parents and their kids enjoying each other’s company and feeling absolutely, utterly, alone.

He’s there again today, sulking on his usual bench, the heated conversation with Jocelyn on the phone at the forefront of his mind. Some kid accidentally threw a ball in his direction, hitting the top of his head, but upon seeing his face the boy does a total 180 degree turn on his heels and ran away crying to his mother.

Leonard holds the ball in his hands and tries not to squeeze too hard.

His phone rings in his pocket to the chorus of P!nk’s Trouble. “What.”

_“I’m flying over Paris right now. I shit you not; even the city lights are romantic.”_

“What. Do you want.”

_“Just asking if you’re home yet.”_

“I’m in---”

_“That wasn’t a straight yes, so if you can get your perky ass home right now, that’d be great.”_

“ _Jim_. Is this conversation recorded in the plane’s logs.”

 _“Hmmm, maybe?”_ Leonard pops the ball one-handed.

_“What was that sound? Anyway, love you, Bones. Call me back as soon as you’re in the door!”_

 

* * *

 

 

“What the actual fuck.”

Leonard stares at the clipboard with the delivery confirmation form in his hands, trying to rein in his rage before the courier guy pees his pants in fear of what Jim affectionately labeled his ‘babyeater scowl’.

The box at his feet has air holes. And about a million quarantine and customs clearance forms plastered all over.

He banishes the courier guy with a generous tip, then crouches down next to the suspiciously quiet box and thinks.

He pulls out his phone.

_“Hey, you.”_

“Jim, what is this?”

_“Have you opened it?”_

“For all I know you might have sent me a crocodile. Or a king cobra. So no, I’m not opening it.”

_“Sadly, I can’t fit a crocodile in a box like that. A king cobra though… now there’s a possibility.”_

“Jim. I will burn your mixtapes.”

_“Well, shit. It’s a puppy, alright?”_

Leonard chucks away his phone for the second time that day – it landed in the shoe rack this time, probably somewhere between Jim’s rank trainers – and lifts the top of the box carefully.

A pair of pale blue eyes stares back at him.

“Jesus _Christ_.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a light red Siberian Husky.

Just a few months old – two and a half, at the most – and already running circles around his legs.

The sun is setting, his dinner’s still in the fridge in its separate raw components, and he’s on the house phone whining to his best friend Carol about his lot in life.

“He’s got me the essentials but I still need to buy next week’s food and some toys and—oh my god, I don’t even know if it’s _litter-trained_ , and I don’t have time to take it for walks, and it just chewed on Jim’s five-hundred dollar shoes which would have cheered me up some if it hadn’t started on _my_ favorite shoes next—”

Carol huffs down the line at him, spanners clanking in the background. _“Leonard, really, you’re overreacting. I gotta go, Scotty’s shouting at me.”_ And then she ended the call. Seriously, is this going to be a thing now? The women in his life clicking off on him without a proper goodbye?

He bends down and tries to will the puppy into stopping its incessant circling. The thing looks happy for no reason, bouncing around him with its tiny tongue poking out. Leonard automatically feels the need to grump back in response.

P!nk is loudly proclaiming she’s trouble somewhere in the direction of the hallway. “Hello.”

_“I can’t believe you denied me the pleasure of hearing you squeal over our new baby.”_

“Firstly, no squealing was involved so I didn’t deny you anything. Secondly, when did this _thing_ become ‘ _our_ baby’?! I never knew this was a joint decision!”

_“It was! I presented the idea to you the night before I left.”_

Leonard finds himself blushing deeply, inherently glad that this isn’t a video call. “You asshole, don’t pretend as if you didn’t know what you did to me that night! I would have been in no position to… to…”

_“Say anything due to the ball gag I placed in your mouth? Or wait. Was it the silk cloth? No, I used the silk cloth to tie you to the bed posts. Definitely the ball gag then.”_

“ _Jim,_ for god’s sake, not while you’re _on record_!”

_“Oh, right. Anyway her name is Hayley, and she’s our new baby girl! She’s litter-trained when I got her but you might wanna ask Chekov next door if he can help you with setting the litter box. He has some experience with dogs, I think.”_

“I have never owned a pet in my _life_. This is a giant screw-up in the making.”

Jim’s voice is notably soft as he replies. _“Just think of her as a real human baby and you’ll do fine, Bones. You did great by Jojo, didn’t you?”_

Leonard tries not to sound too dejected at the mention of his daughter when he says, “It’s not the same, Jim.”

There is a bit of static as Jim’s voice drops in volume. _“Losing you. Love you lots. Send me videos of her when you can?”_

“Hell no.”

_“But you said you won’t deny me anything!”_

“I said I _didn’t_. Not that I _wouldn’t_. _Bye_ , Jim.”

_Be safe._

 

* * *

 

 

If you told Leonard Horatio McCoy that he would be handling a tissue wet with dog piss sometime in the future, he’d deck you.

As it is, though, that is exactly what is happening.

“Alright, doctor. Place that tissue in the litter box on top of the absorbent pad and she’ll get the idea eventually.”

Leonard does as he was told with a deeply unhappy look on his face. There isn’t enough bleach in the world to wash away the sensation of warm dog urine on his fingers.

Chekov taps him and beckons him out of the training area. Leonard vaults over the makeshift fence – simple pieces of corrugated cardboard, really – and stoically observes the pen of sorts they’d made for the dog in the spare room. Chekov had mentioned that it would be easiest to do a crate-style training method in an empty room to get her used to the location of her litter box. “You can let her out once she learns to do her business in the box. In the meantime, use this to clean any… accidents.”

 _Thank god my new clinic isn’t open yet_ , thinks Leonard as he accepts the bottle of cleaning solution with his clean hand. _Not that I’m looking forward to spending my free time cleaning up shit… literally._

The puppy barely manages to get her head above the cardboard, and not for lack of trying. She sees Leonard standing nearby and barks happily, as if the mere sight of him made her doggy day.

Leonard gives her muzzle an awkward pat.

He washes his hands in the joined bathroom while Chekov rights the fence where the puppy’s butted her head against it. “The cardboard will only last for so long with an energetic puppy like that,” says Chekov as they walk back out into the hall. “I suggest using some PVC lattice fences while the training is going on, which are a little bit more durable.”

“Got it. How about walks? Do I need to take her out every day?”

“Yes! But maybe not soon. You will need to buy her a collar and a leash first, and bring her to the vet for shots.”

“Ah, the vet. Almost forgot about that… I’ll need to check her forms to see what kind of vaccinations she’s already had.” Leonard pats the younger man’s shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Chekov. I really appreciate it.”

“Is not a problem, doctor!” Chekov beams at him, hands clasped in his back and bouncing slightly on his heels. “I think it is very… cute that you and Mr. Kirk are keeping a dog. Together.”

 _Believe me, this was not a joint decision,_ Leonard wants to say, but stops just in time. “Do you mind if I call you sometimes with questions? I’ve no experience in keeping anything non-human alive, so I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“Not at all, sir!” Chekov says, hopping around as he struggles to get his sneakers on. “You have our number, yes?”

Leonard recalls slapping Sulu’s business card on the fringe at some point. There were personal numbers scribbled on it, which would do. “I think so. You’re driving him to court today?”

“Yes, he asked me very nicely. I am very happy to be able to help him.” Chekov smiles again, a little dreamily this time, and Leonard thinks, _Ah. Young love._

“You both have a good day at work.”

“Thank you doctor! Good luck with Hayley!” Chekov waves as he skips down the hall back to his and Sulu’s apartment. Leonard still wonders how a hotshot prosecutor like Hikaru Sulu ever managed to fall into a relationship with the jack-of-all-trades that is Pavel Chekov, but love can explain anything, he supposes.

Within minutes, he is on the phone again, trying to reach Jim.

The dial tone seems to go on for absolutely ages before he gives up. Jim should have landed by now; maybe his phone isn’t set to roaming yet.

He finds himself gravitating to the training pen, staring at the puppy as she chews on her toys.

“Hey. Dog.”

She pauses in her chewing, ears swiveling, but doesn’t move from her spot.

“Hayley.”

In an instant Hayley is on her paws, trotting to him with an expectant look on her face, tail wagging furiously. Leonard eyes her for a moment, then slowly lowers his hand over the fence to meet her nose.

She sniffs it once.

And pees.

Leonard groans. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have lowered the hand that previously held the pee-soaked tissue.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, isn’t she a darling!” Uhura says cheerfully, ruffling Hayley’s scruff as Spock peruses the vaccination forms. “What’s her name?”

“Hayley.”

“That is just _precious_. Aren’t you a precious little thing?!”

“She doesn’t seem to be missing anything from her vaccination schedule, which is impressive. But I’ll give her a shot of multivitamins.” Spock takes over the handling of the puppy while Uhura prepares the syringe quickly. He checks her teeth and fur on the examination table, before taking the syringe from Uhura and administering the multivitamins.

Hayley yelps once, paws scrabbling as she tries to run away from the evil man with the syringe and back to Leonard. Spock has her in a tight hold so she doesn’t actually go anywhere, but Leonard does move a little closer so she wouldn’t struggle so much.

“Did you two get her together? Which kennel?”

Leonard shrugs at Uhura as Spock releases Hayley. The puppy climbs all over him, whining piteously. “Jim sent her to me by a separate flight, actually. I know nothing about where she came from. I didn’t even know he was planning to get her.”

“Her documents say she originated from the United Kingdom.” Spock hands the papers back to Leonard. “And she appears to be in optimal health, so Mr. Kirk must have gotten her from a reputable breeder.”

“I hope so. Now come on, Hayley.” Leonard leads the puppy back into her carrier and closes it. He startles when Uhura rubs his arm, her smile soft and happy.

“Leonard, do you realize what he means by doing this?”

“Aside from trying to make me clean up after another one of his messes? No, not really.”

“A puppy is a sign of commitment, doctor.”

Hayley barks and tries to cram her muzzle through a small hole in the carrier door. Leonard idly scratches her nose before meeting Spock’s eyes. “I know that. Enough with the smokescreens; what are you two trying to say?”

Uhura and Spock exchange glances with each other.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jim, hey.”

_“Bones! Am I glad to hear your voice. I just had the worst layover. My roaming services were shot and I didn’t get your missed calls until now—”_

“Yeah, that’s nice. Jim, why did you get us this puppy?”

_“Uh. Obviously because she’s cute, Bones, have you really looked at her? I mean, she has my eyes, don’t you think?”_

“It’s just… are you sure this is not anything more than… than a passing fancy?”

The line is suddenly quiet.

_“Bones, nothing I do for you has ever been a passing fancy.”_

_Fuck._ “Jim, I didn’t mean—”

_“I gotta go. Don’t read too much into it, okay?”_

“Jim!” But the line is already dead.

Hayley stares at Leonard from her pen with her head tilted sideways.

She’s quiet for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks pass. Jim is due to arrive home today and Leonard still has no idea how he’s going to fix things between them. Jim didn’t pick up any of his calls, and if it wasn’t for the online flight tracker he would have been worried sick that his plane crashed somewh—no, better not think of that again.

Hayley grows without him noticing. All he knows is that suddenly one day she’s agile and large enough to leap over the fence of her pen (plastic – she soiled the cardboard two days after it was put up) and have an adventure around the house while sneakily keeping out of Leonard’s radar. He only realizes she’d escaped her pen when it became too suspiciously quiet in her room.

He eventually finds her in the hall, guarding the entrance. Her tail wags furiously as she watches the door, like she’s expecting someone to come through at any moment.

Leonard crouches next to her on the floor and gives her a rubdown. “Hayley, come on. Let’s get you some food.”

She whines and nuzzles at his cheek, but absolutely refuses to budge.

“What are you waiting here for, girl?”

Hayley barks twice before dropping to her stomach and panting. Leonard tries to lift her up bodily, but she rears back and headbutts him hard on his forehead.

Leonard groans, slumping to her side and sprawling loose-limbed on his back. Right there in the middle of the hallway. “Jesus, you’re just as stubborn as your daddy.”

“And twice as good-looking.”

“Yeah, twice as—” Leonard stops.

Jim bends down over him and grins. “Hey Bones.”

 

* * *

 

 

Really, he had it coming. Leonard doesn’t take kindly to being snuck up to.

“You were blocking the hallway, Bones!” Jim cries indignantly, clutching the icepack to his nose. “There is absolutely no way for me to get inside unless I step over you!”

Leonard furiously stirs the coffee he’s brewing, babyeater scowl in full force. “Well, thank god you didn’t, or I would have butted you in the nuts instead.”

The full-body shudder Jim responds with is almost worth the whole debacle.

Hayley, on her part, is absolutely beside herself with joy. She’s bouncing at Jim’s feet, barking shrilly, her tail a blur of movement. Leonard is half-tempted to tether her to Jim’s chair just in case she gets enough rotations in to turn into a [doggycopter](http://i.imgur.com/eM8jzLp.gif).

“At least Hayley missed me, didn’t you girl? Did you miss your _daddy_? _”_

Leonard groans as he sets down the coffee in front of Jim. Hayley barks three times at her _daddy_ then assumes a begging pose by balancing on her hindlegs and pawing the air with her forelegs. Jim practically melts in his seat. He puts aside the icepack, reaches down, and picks her up, setting her in his lap.

“Look at you, starved for attention. Did papa Bones ignore you? Did he? _Did he_?”

Leonard wants to scoff and point out that asking the question twice won’t get the dog any closer to answering back in English, but… “I’m the papa now?”

“Um.” Jim hides his face in Hayley’s neck. “Yes? I’m pretty sure—I mean. Yes.”

“Jim… I—”

Jim pulls back suddenly, startling Hayley off his lap. He takes a deep breath. “I… I wanna raise her. With you. We can be like… dapper doggy dads.”

“ _Dapper doggy dads._ Are you serious.”

“Look, the point is, Bones, we’ve been together for five years now. We’re both not getting any younger.” Jim’s hands slide off the table and he starts to tremble, very minutely. “Lately I’ve been thinking about… about _stability_. And something like… _permanence_.” Jim cringes at the word, as if fearing Leonard would hit him in retaliation. “I’ve had so many failed relationships in the past,” he continues quickly, “ _So many,_ that I know… I _know,_ Bones, when I’ve found someone I want to stick with for the rest of my life. And right now, that person is you.”

Leonard lets the silence stretch for a while. A part of him knows exactly how he could broach the subject without sending Jim running off to the hills, but another part of him can’t figure out where the inevitable conversation would lead. He leans back in his chair and starts slowly. “Uh. Spock and Uhura already clued me in. Said that Hayley is some sort of proof of… _commitment_.”

Jim’s hands tighten around his mug of coffee almost imperceptibly. “She’s not a _passing fancy_ , Bones.”

“You didn’t let me finish that time—”

Jim slams a hand on the counter, a look of hurt marring his features. “She’s not, okay?! I really thought about her at length; about bringing her into our relationship and what she would mean to us, long before I asked you that night. And you said yes, you said… you said…”

“Jim. I was barely coherent at the time. I can hardly be accountable for whatever that came out of my mouth… that aside, I—”

“I knew that! God. I was selfish, Bones. I _felt_ selfish when I paid for her to be delivered to you, knowing that, in a way, I’m using her to keep you in the relationship. I hate that sometimes I get so scared of you leaving me, of losing the one person I’ve ever considered _forever_ with, that I’d do anything, _anything_ at all to keep you—”

“ _James Tiberius Kirk.”_

Jim tapers off with a whimper. He finally, finally summons enough courage to look at Leonard directly, but his eyes are a dull and cloudy blue under the bright lights of the kitchen.

Leonard expels a drawn out, long-suffering sigh. He leans in and places both hands clasped together on the table. “Just take out that ring you’ve been fiddling with in your pocket for the past ten minutes and propose to me, damn it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“…I was going to say that it would be nice, you know, if she _wasn’t_ a passing fancy.”

“Mmm-hmm. Really.”

“Yeah. I mean, if you hadn’t ended the call when you did, you would have even heard me admit that she’s really growing on me. Puke-eating, carpet-soiling habits and all.”

“Hmmm, that’s good.”

“And if you had stayed on the phone for even _longer_ , I might even have told you that I loved you, and I missed you, and I wished you were home sooner.”

“Oh, I _am_ sad that I missed that.”

“Well, now you know not to end calls before your husband’s had his say.”

“Granted, at the time you weren’t my husband _yet_.”

“Are you really going to argue with me right now, Jim? You’re _un_ believable.”

Jim smiles widely into Leonard’s hip, hands lazily stroking the outside of his lover’s thighs, placating. “I wouldn’t dare, Bones. But are you done complaining? I really want to enjoy some sleep with my new husband before our daughter manages some sort of mischief in the night.”

Tired hands pull him up to the head of the bed. A well-fucked Leonard gives his Jim a lingering kiss, nipping lightly when Jim smirks against his lips. “Smug bastard.”

“Can you blame me, really? I have the best husband in the world and the cutest troublemaker as my daughter.”

Leonard couldn’t blame him at all, of course. Not when he could boast of having the same.

 

 


End file.
